


"We'll Be Fine"

by 2towels



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, Crying, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Homesickness, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), Quiet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 23:07:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9209462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2towels/pseuds/2towels
Summary: Lance only cries when he's homesick.





	

When Keith hears Lance crying for the first time, he isn't surprised. It's after a long and quiet dinner that he'd excused himself from early. He'd walked out of the hall with shaking shoulders and they had all heard the distinctive sniffle before the door had closed behind him. Pidge and Hunk had exchanged knowledgeable glances, while Shiro had looked away to the closed door with grim eyes, but the sound had evaded Keith's mindset enough to force him to search for the Blue Paladin after the rest of them had dispersed for the night.

He's in the control room looking out at the vast and infinite stretch of stars, which is no surprise to Keith either when he finds him. He's almost tempted not to say anything to break into the sound of Lance's choked and quiet sobs, knowing his company is probably the least desired, but something pulls him from the roots of his stomach. It's a pang he can't explain when he knows something is amiss with any of his teammates these days, but seeing Lance pull into himself and shudder from behind makes it stronger and impossible to smother as he usually can.

Before he can take a step, let alone speak a word, Lance is half turned towards him suddenly. "We'll be fine." He assures, voice firm and almost impossible to hear it's so soft. When he repeats it once, twice, Keith realizes he's talking to himself. Reassuring himself to regain a grip on what he fondly refers to as 'space madness' whenever someone asks him if he's feeling off-kilter. Realizing he's homesick, Keith tries to pinpoint what exactly triggered him into his rut, knowing that if he's at the point of actual tears it must be significant.

It's not that Lance doesn't cry, of course. Everyone knows he's the most tear-prone one of them, so crying is a given skill of his, but when Keith thinks back, he can't remember a single time he's seen Lance with more than just a stray tear or two. His cries are full and unrestrained but quiet and unlike the rest of him. They shake his whole body while he sobs and the Red Paladin can't help but be slightly disturbed at seeing him this way, so vulnerable and unprotected.

He's been staring for too long too silently, and when he realizes his mistake in his original comforting plan, his step is too heavy on the smooth flooring. It's too loud of a footfall underneath his boots, and he feels another tug at the flinch Lance gives, stray ocean eyes flicking from the floor to Keith immediately. He feels hot and guilty, like he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing. When Lance says nothing, moving a thin hand to wipe at his face, Keith takes a few more heavy steps.

By the time Keith reaches Lance, the only signs that he was crying at all are the soft shine on his cheeks and the redness beginning to rim his eyes. He's almost masked, having put away his tears so fast and well, and the fact gives Keith a third pang, deep in his chest rather than his stomach. He realizes, a little late, that he has no idea what to do towards his "Make Sure Lance is Okay" plan.

Lance himself seems to have put on a weak disinterested face, but his eyes are still wet and they both know what Keith saw. "It's really beautiful out there. We're some of the only Earthlings who know about how much more beautiful space can be." He says into the quiet, not sudden or forced but there's something wrong about the sentiment Keith can't place.

But Keith agrees, nodding almost too sharply and not knowing at all what to do with that information.

Lance leaves then, face strangely hardened as he turns and as Keith hears his shuffling away grow distant his stomach boils. He knows he did that wrong, but he can't figure out what else there was to do.

He finds himself watching Hunk and Lance interact more. For all the speculation, however, he can't find out why he's filing away things that make Lance laugh and smile even in the grimmest of their battles. Despite being constantly aware of the tone Hunk uses when Lance is particularly bummed about something, he can't decide why he needs to know these things.

Pidge catches on effortlessly, but refuses any answers when Keith finally comes to them, only infuriating him more.

One early morning, when Hunk has tried to beat Coran to the kitchen for breakfast (he lost the race, but it was too late to sneak back into bed by that point), Keith finds himself itching to ask about his life at home. Hunk is fond and all smiles in explaining his parents, his home situation, the way his dog would make a 'snuff' noise at him whenever he was bored, and everything in-between. The happy guy divulges the information to Keith like it's covert, keeping a constant quiet tone despite being the only ones besides Coran awake, and the more he speaks, the happier he seems to become. It's confusing. Keith wasn't accustomed to homesickness, had no home to be sick of, but he was fairly certain that was something the others would suffer from if they were talking about what their lives used to be. Hunk shows no sniffles, however, just a deep rooted smile and an air of real sunshine and fresh air. When Keith asks, almost bewildered, Hunk only dims a fraction.

"I'd rather not get sad when I know they're safe. I miss them a lot, and I think of them every day, but there's nothing I can do about that right now, and we're working for them, in a way, so..." He's rambled a little and looks embarrassed, but Keith gives a jerky nod anyway. When he turns away, squinting a little in thought, he meets the gaze of Shiro from across the dining hall, who is looking at him with a father-like understanding. Keith feels hot again.

The second time he sees Lance cry, it surprises him much more than the first. It's sudden and impossible to ignore, in the middle of a diplomatic meeting with a newly added planet to the alliance. As a female-like alien stands to address Allura, who is sitting in the center of their side of the giant conference like table, Lance stands almost in sync with her. His eyes are blown wide suddenly, and they're glassy before he's even turned and left the room. Keith stands just as suddenly as his chest leaps from the soft sound of his retreating sniffle.

Shiro's barely given him an approving nod before he's after the Blue Paladin, running a gloved finger across the bridge of his nose while he paces after his teammate's long strides. When they're out of the meeting room and well on their way to being completely out of the building, standing in the strange and beautifully orange garden courtyards of the palace, Keith finally clears his throat loud enough so that Lance knows he's there. He wavers for a second before stopping, and Keith takes it as a small victory in doing this right.

"That woman looks like my mom." Lance says as he turns, eyes thoughtful and tears slipping silently down his face. It's a much different kind of crying from the first time Keith had prepared for. The tears almost aren't there at all, but they thicken as Lance gives a hard sniffle.

Keith flounders. "Th-The alien?" If he had counted correctly, the inky-shaded being had eight fingers on each of it's four hands and a series of quills instead of hair atop of her head. Lance nods, but Keith can't help but be confused. "With the...The alien reminded you of your mom?"

He ducks his head then, palming the back of his neck before removing his helmet to rub his face vigorously on his sleeve. Keith can't help but think the tears aren't going to absorb into the armor very well, and is proven right as Lance's face is still glistening when he lifts it again. "Her eyes and her smile. She lit up." As soon as Lance says it, Keith agrees, because he'd noticed it as well. Bright blue eyes and an mischievous grin.

The same bright eyes meet Keith's as he places a hand on the Blue Paladin's shoulder. With a squeeze, as hard as he can through his suit, he tries to think of a way to assure Lance that it'll be okay, that it's okay to miss them. When the corners of his mouth lift reassuringly towards Keith, he knows he's conveyed his point, but he still feels like he hasn't done enough. There's something he could say here, and that something has been nagging him since he'd watched those eyes dim as they scanned the stars, but he can't figure out what that something _is_.

Only a moment of them staring at one another passes before Keith realizes it's going to get awkward. Akward isn't new to him, but he doesn't want the small comfort he could give Lance to die at the hands of his inability to function in this situation. So, he begins to pull away again. Before he can so much as pull all his fingers off of Lance's shoulder, however, thin arms are wrapped around him and Lance gives a shaky and heavy breath into the curve of his neck.

It's not a tight or intimate hug, and Keith doesn't know how to completely reciprocate with one hand trapped on Lance's shoulder, but he snakes his other hand around the thin boy's waist and tugs him in a little closer. Another breath comes from Lance, even heavier, before he pulls away and his soft smile catches Keith's gaze again. His eyes are still glassy, but he doesn't seem like he's restraining anything now, as he had the night on the ship. Warmth crawls up Keith's neck to the height of his cheeks and shells of his ears, and his chest feels like there's a boxing match going on beneath his ribs, but he's smiling back without restraint.

Lance's hands have dragged to his forearms by the time Keith realizes he's pulling away fully, and Keith, in a moment of inexplicable dread, grasps at his arms to keep him there if just a moment or two longer. The Blue Paladin's smile doesn't waver, nor do his eyes move from Keith's own, but his fingers twitch on Keith's arm and tighten in each other's hold. They stay like that for a long time, inching down to as far as each other's wrists before Coran is calling to them from across the courtyard, telling them it's time to return to the ship.

The third time is the quickest, one Keith is glad he could diffuse as fast as he did. They're in the training room sparring with one another, a new thing they've recently started doing in their free time at Lance's request. Keith's heart hammers and his hands shake every time he's prepping to go against the Blue Paladin, but it's all business as soon as they're engaged. They curse and howl and it usually dissolves to them rolling around on top of one another until they're tired once their weapons have been abandoned, but neither of them mind the energy outlet or the buzzing sensation of laying next to one another while completely worn out.

It's after a spar just like their routine, fingers twitching towards one another, when Lance gives his signature sniffle. It puts Keith on edge, immediately alert and rigid at the sound, and he's sitting up before Lance can even start talking, though his mouth is open and prepared. Despite Keith's sudden movements, Lance stares at the ceiling, and his lips are curved in a small and tired smile.

"What's wrong?" Keith prides himself on being able to ask Lance things much more easily these days, but the suddenness of the question seems to surprise him, his hand showing the only signs of his flinch in the corner of Keith's vision.

Lance chuckles then, despite his surprise, and his eyes are wet and more ocean-like than ever. He closes them before Keith can even marvel or over-analyze them. "Outside of being on a mission to save a universe ten-thousand years under dark Galra influence as a seventeen year old? Lots, I guess." It's cynical for him, and even he seems to realize it as soon as the words are out of his mouth, visibly wincing. "Sorry. You smell like cinnamon. I have no idea _how_ because it looks like you never take care of that mullet and I've never smelled any soap in this giant castle that smells even remotely like home, but you do. I miss food." His prattling has no edge to it, despite the jab at Keith's hair, and the Red Paladin finds himself stuck on trying to remember cinnamon. It's not hard, it's just a longer process than it feels like it should be.

"Cinnamon. Huh." Is all he can say, a little dumbfounded at being the reason for Lance's tears. In any other situation, he would panic at the thought, but the smile still on Lance's face despite the stream of tears down the sides of his face reassures him that it's a fond homesickness rather than the painful kind he's seen Lance go through before.

There's a beat before Lance realizes that's all Keith's going to say on the matter, and he bursts out laughing, sitting up and capturing his hand from where it'd been laying centimeters from his own. With his free digits, he slides the wetness from beneath his eyes with ease, sniffling until his composure is regained, and all Keith can do is feel the sweat well up underneath his gloves and stare at the laughing boy. He's warm all over, he realizes, from the tips of his ears to the pit of his stomach, and Lance is doing nothing but laughing and squeezing his hand.

The first thing Lance cries as he's finally stopped laughing is, "Okay, okay, but sniff me. Do I smell like cinnamon, too?" And Keith becomes even warmer than before, no doubt blazing at his cheeks.

"You always smell like flowers." His response is immediate and makes the grin on Lance's face pause. As it falls, he doesn't frown, but he looks almost contemplative as his eyes meet Keith's. There's a rosy color blooming on his own cheeks, and Keith swallows so hard he almost chokes at the sight of him looking so pretty.

They're inches from one another, breathing a little hitched and hands intertwined tightly, when Lance goes, "That is so weird." There's no context Keith can grasp at, and his mind's a little spinney so close to one another, but he has the sense to furrow his eyebrows and squint a little at him.

"That people have different smells. We're in almost the same place at all times and use the same supplies and eat the same food, but you smell like cinnamon and I smell like flowers." He divulges, and their noses are almost touching. "Is it the rooms? Does your whole room smell like cinnamon? Maybe Coran washes the sheets differently..." Keith has been holding his breath for a long moment now, and Lance is barely whispering but neither of them know why he's still talking at all.

They're a hair away from one another when an alarm signals overhead, and they both jump and bash their heads together.

Shiro is already going through a strategy as they're en route to their lions, gliding through the hangers in practiced ease. There's only a few ships around them, not much to worry about, but they look like they could be heavy hitters, so they're all to approach with extreme caution until they assess the group around them.

Keith agrees, barely paying much attention to caution and patience and the like as his lion roars to life and soars out of it's wing. As soon as they're outside the safety of the castle barrier, they're met with a barrage of fire, and Pidge's immediate information feed rings through their ears that they are, indeed, heavy hitters, and the particle barriers, like usual, will not hold up long. With there only being three ships, Shiro doesn't immediately call for Voltron to be formed, instead allowing Keith to head towards one while Hunk and Lance pitch towards another.

Pidge is shouting something about close-range a little late, and the black lion barrels into the red just as a bright purple blast sails past them. His name rings in his ears through the communicator from various voices, and he grunts in frustration as his only response, weaving through shots expertly and heading to aim towards their cannons. From the sound of a short explosion and Hunk and Lance's whooping, he can tell one ship has already been taken down, and Pidge is joining Shiro in helping Keith with the second. It's down in minutes, Galra purple shooting in all directions, and Pidge is feeding information they can tell about the largest through their ears.

"I'd be more careful of those sharp little beams on the wings rather than the giant cannon." Lance hears them say as he's aiming to take one out immediately.

Keith forms his bayard instinctively as he gets closer to the ship, dragging down it's massive hull and working towards the smaller wing beams while Hunk and Shiro work on the cannon. he manages to put major structural damage into the area surrounding the beams, in an attempt to slow them while the ship is taken completely down, and almost misses his team members calling his name.

It's Lance he hears most clearly, sharp and strained and that deep feeling in Keith's gut tells him to do something fast so Lance is calm again. Something to end his worry fast, and his first solution is to jab his sword into the base of the beam, hoping to dislocate it completely.

He hears a sharp explosion, Pidge swearing, and his team members--Lance--screaming, and realizes in a moment of clarity that he'd been tuning out Pidge and Shiro's instructions. He'd been distracted and impulsive. Knowing it was his trait most prominent as a Red Paladin, a small part of him told him it was fine to act as he did, but the rest of him screamed, mentally and physically and vocally.

When his own throat cleared of it's agonized sound, Shiro was immediately replacing it in his ears. "Keith, talk to us, I'm guiding you back to the castle now." In an almost undertone, he could hear Pidge's continuous potty mouth, Hunk's uncertain groans, and Lance's almost frantic repetition of his name.

"'M good. Probably need a healing pod." He mustered, letting go of his controls and slipping a bit in his seat uncertainly. His head was ringing, and when he looked down, his bayard was slack in his hand, sword drawn, and grazing across his side. There was a decent amount of blood, but Keith knew that consciousness meant enough that he would most likely be fine. "Definitely need a healing pod." He amended accordingly.

Shiro, sounding even more distressed, added, "Coran's already prepping the bay for you, we can't get close to the castle until the cannon's out. What's the damage? Can you keep up with me?" They were standard questions from a concerned leader, but Keith found himself irritated as he slowly moved his free shaky hand across his bayard blade.

"Weapon ricocheted. There's blood, do I pull it out or wait?" He couldn't remember the proper procedure, his mind growing fuzzy and everything looking even redder than it normally did inside his lion. Comforting purrs were keeping him calm below him, but he couldn't help his growing irritation at himself.

"Pull out what?" He heard Lance choke while Pidge gave a soft 'ew' below his voice.

"My bayard is in my stomach." He snapped, grunting. "Shiro." He had meant to ask again, but it came out as more of a demand from his dry lips. His fingers felt cold, but he knew he'd be fine. He squinted as he heard Lance choke again.

"Don't touch it Keith, the cannon will be down in a second." Shiro's voice was surprisingly calm, but Lance and Pidge and Hunk had become a chorus of profanity. An explosion sounded, and Keith gave a long, groaning sigh, eliciting an "I know, buddy" from the Black Paladin as his lion was pulled back into the castle.

Lance was still swearing through their helmets when they had all returned, Keith being delicately moved onto what looked like a floating stretcher while Allura spoke, not unkindly, about his decisions in that fight. Keith knew it was a conversation he would rehear after he healed, but he appreciated Allura's attitude to an extent towards making sure he knew first and foremost her opinions on his decisions.

Despite the frantic tone in Lance's voice, he was the last one to reach the side of Keith's stretcher as Coran pulled him through the halls quickly to the medical bay. He was tired by the time Lance was there, having retracted his bayard instinctively and jolted himself back into consciousness at the pain of having it removed alone. Coran had given a healthy "Quiznak!" at that, instructing Hunk to take over moving the stretcher while Coran went to the wound with a newer urgency.

When Keith opened his eyes, not having realized he had them closed for most of the ride, he saw blue so vividly his breath almost stopped (it would've completely if Shiro hadn't been holding his hand and instructing him to keep breathing). Lance stood over him with glassy eyes and a wobbly lip, and Keith hissed. "Do not cry."

"I'm _not_!"

"D-Don't even start, Lance. Do not fucking cry." Lance only cried when he was homesick. Keith knew that fact from all this time of religiously preventing him from being so whenever he could. He was not going to break that streak over a flesh wound.

Despite the obvious threat of a waterfall from his face, Lance indeed did not cry by the time Keith's eyes were closed again. He felt another hand in his free one, distinctly Lance's, squeeze and warm his fingers, and hummed almost pathetically at the touch, feeling a pull in his stomach he didn't need right now considering the gash already in it. "We'll be fine." He ghosted in a whisper.

When Keith woke up, he was freezing still. The bay was dark and quiet as he stumbled out of his healing pod, falling into the strong arms of an almost silent Coran, who seemed to be expecting him completely. As his eyes adjusted, he registered four sleeping bodies scattered on the steps and floor around him, and he took a few deep breaths.

"What-"

"I told them you wouldn't be out until morning, and technically it's only an hour before we'd be waking them up, so it's not that far off!" Coran answered cheerfully, keeping steady as Keith struggled to right himself on wobbly legs. "It seems nobody decided to sleep the night prior, so when Lance suggested what he called a 'slumber party' in here after I insisted they sleep, everyone was all snuggled up in here like a band of hilgrifs in an instant!"

As Keith was trying to form words on his heavy tongue in response, finally feeling the steady ground on his bare feet, Allura entered the room with a tray in her hand. She looked a little miffed still, but brought a pile of goo to him with such delicacy that Keith knew she'd been worried, too. As Coran gently set him down to sit on the steps, he shivered and pawed at the bowl of green gunk until it was simply spinning in his lap. He didn't feel hungry, but knew his body wanted it.

Allura and Coran didn't have much to say while he ate, uncharacteristically, and after a while, he flicked his gaze to the princess to find out why. Her hair was disheveled and there was a trace of a dark ring under her eyes. When he looked at Coran, he saw his mustache in a similar state. "Go to bed, both of you." He found himself imploring, eyes glancing around for a spare blanket in the mess of a slumber room. "I'll go once I'm done eating, and I'll be careful. You'll both have to be up soon to rouse the paladins and monitor the ship."

His logic was sound, but Coran and Allura looked offended at the insinuation that they would leave him.

"You just got out of the pod, my boy, you don't have to worry about how we're doing. We'll escort you to bed right as soon as you're done." Coran assured him, patting his back gently.

Keith grunted. "I want to sleep here." His sharp nose flicked to the pile of paladins scattered about the room, watching as one of the dark masses shifted, and he took another spoonful of goo.

Neither had any protest, which surprised Keith to an extent. "Please make sure you make it to your own room once they're all up. You'll need to rest much longer than when we'll be waking them in a few hours." Allura made sure to apply, standing regally and leaning a little to set a hand on Keith's other shoulder. "We will have a long talk about your actions later, I'm sure you know, but in short, you need to be more careful, Keith. We do not need the weight of losing a paladin on our shoulders, much less one as good and fit as you."

Keith wasn't sure how to receive that, but Allura didn't give him the chance to respond as she exited the room. He noted how she bent over to relay both Pidge and Shiro's blankets, and the tenderness that was now on her face, but he was glad that was more painless than he thought it would be.

As soon as his bowl was finished, Coran scooped it up and helped him back to his feet. He was still freezing, wondering when he'd get his own clothes back, and the older friend of his seemed to finally take notice of his small shivers and shakes and laid two heavy blankets on his shoulders. "I'd pick Hunk if you're looking to sneak up next to one in their sleep. He looks the warmest." And he was right, Hunk was in a ball with a pillow and blanket looking at complete peace and warmth, but Keith wasn't really intending to slide up with any of his teammates. He only slid to the ground near the entrance when Coran left, staring at them tiredly in his blanket bundle and remembering how worried he too had been last time they'd been waiting for those pods to release one of their friends.

He almost screamed when he heard the sniffle. His snap was immediate. "Lance." He tried to convey his irritation, his complete exasperation, and his confusion all in one go, but his name came out tired and quiet instead.

The Blue Paladin sat up immediately. "I thought you went to sleep." He said quickly, huffing and rubbing his face before looking over at Keith. "Why are you over there? Sitting like that?"

Keith only grunted and squinted at Lance. "What's wrong?" Despite not liking Lance's accusatory tone at his position, he scooted towards the other boy in both spite and so he could disturb the other paladins less.

"What's wrong? What-What do you mean what's _wrong_? Keith!" Lance hadn't explained anything, so Keith didn't respond as he scooted more, making slow progress across the floor. When his thin hand snaked out of his own blankets and stretched out to grab Keith's ankle, he nearly jumped at the warm contact. His pull was firm but not rough, sliding Keith over to him faster and wrapping his arms and wings of blanket around the boy. There was a sniffle. "You _stabbed_ yourself!"

Keith could feel Lance's breaths become shaky and more hitched, and as soon as another sniffle rang out, he felt a wetness on his shoulder and Lance's grip around him tighten. Clumsy and tired, Keith raised his hands slowly and rested them on Lance's sides, burrowing his head into the dip between his neck and shoulder. "Not really. It-It was a gash, actually. Not a stab." He remembered slowly and quietly.

Lance thrust away from him and kept his grip on his shoulders. His eyes were pouring water, but at least he looked like he was heavily trying to restrain that part of this situation. "You could have died, Keith." He implored, breathy, trying to make Keith realize something he wasn't. His hands were on his forearms again, fingers twitching, and Keith only furrowed his brows. "You didn't-You weren't even concerned. You have to be concerned about that stuff."

Something clicked in Keith's mind as his dark eyes trailed the tears dripping from Lance's face. Lance was homesick...sort of. "Sorry." Was all he said after a long moment of staring, and his glove-less hands pulled at the fabric of Lance's shirt until they were a breath away from one another. When Lance looked even more concerned than usual, if not a little confused, Keith decided it was as proper a time as any to close the distance. "Sorry." He repeated as their lips connected.

They both slotted against one another almost completely still, and Keith groggily decided he should probably never speak to Lance when he's tired again, but Lance moved suddenly and urgently against him, and that decision was completely forgotten. It was a brief, insistent kiss, and when they pulled away from one another, the worry on Lance's face had considerably lessened.

All was quiet besides the hum of the ship, and they looked at one another fondly, tiredly, and sadly before Keith gave a mighty shiver. Lance's smile poked up then, wrapping him back up in his blanket wings and rolling so they were both on their sides on his pillow.

Somewhere while they both fell asleep, their twitching fingers found one another, and all Keith could think of was the smell of flowers as he drifted off.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll probably update HWHtD tomorrow, but here's some unedited midnight klance for everybody. Please serve hot over a bed of rice.
> 
> **EDIT 1/27/17**  
>  Haha the HWHtD update I lied about is actually coming tomorrow, this time. It's at about 5500 words, but there's a few more points I want to get through before I'm finished, then I'll just skim it and post it unbeta'd because really what is a beta bye-
> 
> ANYWAY
> 
> There is some BEAUTIFUL art that ButterCat drew here: http://katanaijou.tumblr.com/post/155449904163/cinnamon-huh-keith-smells-like-cinnamon-lance thank you so much again for showing it to me and sharing! I don't even have the heart to change my phone background I just smile every time it's so fucking pretty guys-


End file.
